Lily and Logan: Their Beginning
by Ms.Wolverine24
Summary: The point of view of an immortal "living flame" as she likes to call herself, Lily goes through Logan's life with him and sees all the things he cannot remember in his "past life." But soon, Lily Garrick may join Logan in his adversity. She will understand him like no other.
1. Chapter 1

Mutant.

That word seems like it has had a different meaning every time I say it. Even in my sixteen years, I've never been able to figure out why it is such a big deal. I have a certain problem with mutants, but I've always been afraid to talk about it to anyone; most of all other mutants. I myself am a mutant and have been so for as long as I can remember. Unfortunately, I've been "gifted" with the ability to produce fire from any part of my body at will. The only problem is: it doesn't always happen at will. At times of extreme emotion, I cannot control it. When I am angry, sad, or anything of the sort, I always end up burning something. Or someone. It's people like me who humans are trying to figure out how to deal with. Some humans support the mutant community while others would like to see us all dead or incarcerated.

I am also unique from most humans. My body doesn't function exactly as other humans' do. Though I breathe oxygen, it is for a different reason. Being able to produce fire without hardly any effort, I must have a "fuel" source, which is where oxygen comes into play. One could possibly say that I am a living flame. I don't eat regular food unless I absolutely have to. It's revolting, really, and I don't need it. Yes, I do have internal organs, I have blood and a pulse and a regular heartbeat, but it all thrives on the energy from the heat I produce. I can heal any cut or injury, interestingly enough, in a cinch by burning it. It's as normal as human skin or bone regeneration. I don't even have to think about it.

I have also been granted the gift of knowledge in my life. Either that or I just care more about understanding the world around me than most teenagers. Though I have this advantage over most people my age, not a single soul is willing to take my propositions or sharing of knowledge seriously. The only ones who actually care about my information (and even they about only the fact that I have knowledge) are the people trying to have me properly "dealt with."

Recently, I have been working with one man who really does consider mutants as an acceptable part of society named William Stryker. Lately, I have been assisting him with a research project called Weapon X. He swears up and down that he is not going to stop at X and that he will continue to XI, XII, etc. It is my belief that X will be sufficient, but he strongly disagrees. Stryker's plan is to graft an indestructible metal to the entire skeleton of a specimen that could potentially survive the procedure. Stryker so proudly calls his synthetic metal adamantium. I am a huge part of the success of this experiment because no one else in the world can get the metal hot enough to melt it. That kind of heat is also extremely dangerous to produce and only I can do it safely.

It does weigh on my conscience to be experimenting on someone, but if we do find someone, they will have to volunteer to do the procedure. That lifts some of the guilt, but one can't help but wonder if the "volunteer" really knows what they're getting themselves into.

Soon after that, I could not figure out how, but Stryker found a volunteer who he believed could survive the procedure. I was called to the laboratory at Alkali Lake, Canada where we'd been working. By the time I arrived very early in the morning at the lab, the volunteer, James Logan, was there and more than ready. I still refuse to believe how eager this poor soul was to put himself through this experiment. Nonetheless, I kept my mouth shut knowing what Stryker could do if I interfered. Still, I remember that day as if it were today. It was one of the my worst.

As Mr. Logan disrobed, I could hear Major Stryker talking to him. I heard him explaining how this experiment would help them both in their mission to kill a man named Victor. I had no idea what he was talking about and became skeptical that Stryker wasn't telling me everything I needed to know. Regretting every second of it now, I continued with Stryker's experiment. While Stryker was strapping the man to his cold hard sheet metal bed, I heard "wolverine" in a conversation about dog tags. I stopped eavesdropping and continued my metal heating duties. I would be heating those two heat conducting bars through the entire experiment.

The experiment began as I watched James Logan slowly fall into the container filled with water in which he would receive the adamantium bone graft. I watched the needles begin to spin and turn red with the heat from my body, I watched as those needles entered that poor man's body. As soon as the metal had begun to surround his bones, he started convulsing. When I saw this, I started to shake in my own fear and let go of the bars for a moment. I wanted this procedure to stop now, I wanted to stop hurting him. I quickly realized that letting go of those bars wouldn't help as the metal cooled off, thickened up, and took even slower and more effort to graft his skeleton; I grabbed the bars and immediately heated them up as much as I possibly could to reduce this man's suffering. There being absolutely nothing more that I could do, I held those bars with a death grip and watched until this horrible procedure was over. Being extremely exhausted from the amount of heat I was forcing from my body, I collapsed as I let go of the bars. A couple of lab assistants tried to come to my aid, but my skin temperature was far too hot to touch.  
The whole room was silent as everyone including I stared at the man in the water filled container. I could no longer hear the heart monitor as he lay still.

"I guess he can die." Stryker said in an almost victorious tone as he turned around. I stood there in shock as a tear inadvertently streamed down my face. I'd killed him.


	2. Chapter 2 - Double Crossed

Chapter 2

I never did like to think of myself as a very emotional person. It may come across as an odd notion whereas I am sixteen and female. At least, mentally I'm sixteen. I'll talk about that later. Be that as it may, I definitely had no control of my emotions on that insanity of a day.

~  
I stood there staring at James Logan for what seemed an eternity. About a minute after the heart monitor flatlined, the silence in the room was broken by a faint ding. That was followed by another and another. It was unbelievable. The dead man's heart was beating again.

"Heart rate rising." I heard the woman standing at the monitor say with disbelief in her voice. I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I hadn't killed this victim of a vicious experiment after all. Relaxing slightly, I took the stairs to the balcony where Stryker had stood for the entire procedure.I could hear him talking under his breath about Weapon XI as I approached him.

"Erase his memory." Stryker concluded before I could speak to him. This made me absolutely furious. He made a promise to Logan that he had no intention of keeping, and not to mention the torturous procedure he just put that poor man through for an experiment! I realized then that Stryker was not the man I thought he was. Then again, neither was I, but i digress.

Clearly I wasn't alone in my anger because as soon as Stryker told his associates to wipe "Weapon X's" memory, Logan began thrashing in the container. He quickly broke free of the sheet metal bed and arose from his (almost) watery grave. Shots were fired as he extended his new adamantium claws from his fists and howled in a fit of rage. The bullets did no damage to him whatsoever. One could see the admantium on his skull when a bullet took the skin off.

While this mess happened I grabbed Stryker by the collar, whether it was trying to intimidate him or hurt him, I'm not sure. I was quickly peeled off and shot with a gargantuan syringe of what must have been a sedative in my abdomen. (Unfortunately, they'd figured out by then that I metabolize chemicals very quickly.) I didn't immediately fall unconscious and kept hold of that bastard's collar for all it was worth. I saw his shirt begin to burn and felt several gunshots trying to pierce my skin as I passed out.

I later awoke in what I consider the worst thing mankind has ever invented: a freezer. I was instantly shivering when I woke up. Trying to maintain my 110º body temperature, I hugged my knees in a pathetic and desperate attempt. I felt the frozen shell of what was a melted bullet on my face. I forced enough heat from my hands to melt it back off and dropped it on the cold, icy floor. I felt helpless as I couldn't even produce as much as a simple flicker on the tip of my finger.

Across the room from me was a transparent wall, and through it I saw Stryker. I immediately got up and walked disbelievingly to him.

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded, ready to melt the only wall of protection he had from me.

"You already know. The experiment we've been working on for years is nearly complete." Stryker spoke to me with a condescending tone. I was ridiculously confused and I don't think the fading sedative helped; I thought we completed that godforsaken experiment with the "wolverine." "I truly am sorry, child." I knew Stryker didn't mean one word of his apology. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the final piece to their sick, twisted puzzle was me.

"Dammit Stryker! Dammit! Damn you! I trusted you! Logan trusted you! I told you everything, all my discoveries, all my research and this is what I get in return? I ought to kill you right now!" I was screaming at him as loud as I could and was pounding on the clear wall. How I hoped I could muster up the heat my emotions wanted. I wanted to burn him until he was nothing but dust.

"Your procedure is scheduled for nineteen hundred hours tonight. Rest up." Stryker said once I was finished. His tone was so condescending, so disregarding of the death threats I just spat at the wall between us, so cocky. It was obvious before that moment, but I realized that he didn't care about the mutant community at all. The only thing his mind was set on was making his precious weapon series. I was to be XI, but what was his plan?

I sat in that freezer for hours. I could feel each degree leaving my body, and knew that I would be hypothermic soon. By the time my body temperature would reach 98.6ºF (normal human body temp.), I would be dead. Knowing that, I was constantly trying to heat myself up; that is the only reason, I think, I was able to survive the prolonged exposure to the freezing temperature.

Seven o' clock came and a couple of burly looking men wearing welding gloves came into the freezer and took one of my arms each. They dragged me, half frozen, into the same room Logan was experimented on.

The minute I could feel the tips of my fingers again, I was strapped to a frozen metal bed with clamps on my wrists, feet, and abdomen. It was the same bed they strapped Logan to. The woman at the heart monitor descended the stairs and prepared an oxygen tank and mouthpiece, just as she did with Logan.

"Is everything ready?" Stryker entered the room. I started struggling to get out of my restraints. "Feeling feisty?"

"If that's what you want to call it you worthless piece of shit." I growled through gritted teeth.

"I have a remedy for your anger, kiddo." Stryker chuckled and turned a knob on the panel next to the container of water that was below me. I felt a shock enter my body through my lower back. My whole body tensed up while the jolt ran through my body. "You're not impervious to electricity now are you?"

I felt sweat run down my forehead into my charcoal colored hair as I was able to relax. My core temperature increased drastically during the shock, but my fingers were still numb.

"Let's get this show on the road." Stryker announced and ascended the stairs to the balcony where he would run the experiment. I struggled fiercely only to be rewarded with another shock.

The woman, before returning to the heart monitor station, placed the breathing apparatus in my mouth. Then I was slowly lowered into the water container. The same thing that happened to Logan was happening to me, and that was the worst day I'd ever lived. When the freezing metal bed dragged me to the bottom of the container, a shock was administered to my back; only this time, it did not stop. My internal body temperature was definitely high enough for adamantium to melt.

My prediction came true as the cold needles entered my body. The needles spun and entered my body from head to toe. My head, face, arms, legs, back, chest, everything. As I melted the metal, it entered my body slowly. This dragged the pain out for what seemed like years. Since the metal was melting upon contact with my skin and my bones in some places, it had a hard time spreading over the bones. The pain from that, the electricity, and the spinning needles was enough to kill someone, but I unfortunately did not die. I was clinging to the vision of Logan, and the vision of me killing Stryker. That was what seemed the most important thing in my life right then.

The procedure finally ended. I was still conscious, but barely. Everything stopped. The needles, the shock, the pain stopped. I felt hot, but the water was so cold. The only thing worse in this world than freezers and cold is water; and worse yet: cold water.  
I was raised out of the water on the still frozen bed, but steam rose from my body. I felt stiff as a board, but my limbs went limp as the burly men hoisted me off my near-death bed. The adamantium still hurt and burned. For the first time in my life, I was burned and it hurt. I couldn't believe it. What a horrible feeling.

Though I was soaked, literally to the bone, I snapped. When those burly lunks started hauling me back to the freezer, I decided that I just did not want to go back. I started struggling and heating my arms up until the guards could not bear it. I was dropped onto the floor and shot several times in the head. Being the "hothead" I am, they didn't even make contact with my head before melting.

I stood up, still being shot at, and bolted. I had no idea where I was going, but I ran down an open hallway. I melted every door and every wall I came across. I just wanted out and I was willing to kill for my freedom. At first it was freedom I wanted. Then I searched for answers.


End file.
